


the game is not played alone

by peachsneakers



Series: remus the migraine wrangler [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Intruloceit, M/M, Multi, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Remus doesn't get migraines. ...Does he?
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Series: remus the migraine wrangler [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515545
Comments: 17
Kudos: 256





	the game is not played alone

**Author's Note:**

> title from twenty one pilots "migraine" as always
> 
> guess who has a migraine :)

Remus blinks furiously, scrubbing his eyes with both hands. 

"Is it dim in here or is it just me?" He asks, still lazily sprawled across Deceit's bed. Dee and Logan give him a dubious glance.

"Considering my heat lamp is on, I would say that it's the opposite of dim right now," Deceit says carefully. "Are you feeling all right, Remus?"

"Never better," he chirps, but he has a sickening feeling that's not quite the truth. His stomach churns, like he's drank a cup of bleach, and nausea paints his throat in broad, sloppy strokes. His head doesn't _hurt_ , not exactly, but it feels like a wicked storm's brewing, about to crash over him with all the force of a tsunami.

Deceit and Logan turn back to Thomas's planner, conversing quietly about his plans for next week and whether or not he'll have to come up with a polite lie to get out of an engagement, and Remus sighs, kicking his feet off the end of the bed. Star bursts of light fill his vision, and he frowns.

If this were anyone else, he'd say maybe they had a migraine starting. But-

 _He_ doesn't get migraines.

Does he?

Remus closes his eyes, burrowing under one of Dee's spare blankets. Maybe he'll just take a nap. That's it. He'll take a nap, feel better, and that will be that. He probably ate something that didn't agree with him, that's all. He does it all the time. Deodorant and cologne, bleach and motor oil. Just because he can't _remember_ eating anything of the sort today doesn't mean that he _hasn't_. And sleep makes everything better, right? He'll be _fine_. He drifts off with that uneasy hope swirling in his mind, the soft sound of his boyfriends talking lulling him to sleep.

When he wakes, the pain throbbing in both temples makes him slam his eyes shut, a pained whimper breaking free before he can stifle it. 

"Remus?" Deceit asks, and his voice is soft, gentle, but still _too loud_ , and Remus whimpers again, only the prospect of more pain preventing the tears before they can trickle down his cheeks. 

"Cephy, what's wrong?" Logan asks. Remus's hands automatically come to his head, massaging his forehead as if he can push the pain away, and he hears Deceit's sharp breath of understanding.

"Sit up for me," Dee encourages, but Logan has to help him. He feels as weak as a box full of newborn kittens in a tree, and the change in position makes his head thud even more with an obscene, sickening pain.

"Is it a migraine, darling?" Dee asks. Remus nods and promptly regrets it, slamming his lips together as tightly as he can so he doesn't throw up in his lap.

"Oh, cephy," Logan says softly, and strokes some of his hair back from his clammy forehead.

"Here," Deceit murmurs. "I'm sure you know the drill." Remus makes a face, staring at the two tablets in Deceit's outstretched hand. He chooses the dissolvable tablet first, popping it under his tongue and sighing in relief as it begins to dissolve. It tastes like it's supposed to be reminiscent of a fruit, but it's only ever seen said fruit through a blurry window. The La Croix of nausea tablets, one might say.

"Juice?" He asks hopefully. Logan conjures a glass of apple juice and hands it to him, as Dee hands him the other tablet. He gets it down with a hefty swallow of juice, only wincing a little bit as the coldness of the juice hits his teeth.

Deceit snaps his fingers, shutting off his heat lamp, and the resulting dimness makes Remus sigh in relief.

"Cuddle time?" Dee asks, his voice blessedly quiet, even softer than before, and Remus makes the a-ok sign with one hand, letting Logan guide him back down to the bed, under a weighted blanket. His boyfriends bracket him, Deceit planting a kiss on his forehead as he does, and Logan ruffling his hair.

"Wait-" He tries to surge back up, but the pain in his head instantly dissuades him.

"What is it, cephy?" Logan asks. Remus frowns, his mouth drooping almost comically.

"I was gonna help my bro," he says. "Maybe even daydream mode..."

"Roman will understand," Deceit says. "And so will Thomas."

"And I'll personally ensure that you still get said creative time," Logan adds. "Don't worry, Remus." Remus subsides, soothed by his boyfriends' promises, and finds himself yawning enormously, fatigue hitting him all over again.

"We won't leave," Deceit promises. "Get some rest, Remus. It might help."

"Didn't earlier," Remus grumbles. Dee laughs softly.

"You took meds now, there's a chance," Deceit points out. "When you asked if the lights were dim..."

"Yeah," Remus says, scrunching his nose. The pain in his head starts to recede a little, like waves lapping at an irregular shore. "And lights kept bursting in my eyes, like squishing grapes."

"That sounds highly unpleasant," Logan says. "I'm sorry, cephy."

"Were we too loud earlier?" Deceit asks.

"Nah," Remus says. "You aren't loud at all. Now _Roman_..." He sticks out his tongue.

"If he shows up, asking where you are, we'll tell him you have a migraine," Logan says. "Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, please," Remus says, closing his eyes.

"Go to sleep," Dee encourages. "We'll be right here when you wake up."

"Pinky swear?" Remus asks. He feels both of his boyfriends take up a hand, firmly locking pinkies together.

"Pinky swear," they chorus.

He falls asleep with a slight smile on his face.


End file.
